How to Be a Vampire: Mall Mayhem
by SaintAugustana
Summary: Quick one-shot: Embry learns the limits of Dimitri's patience and his intolerance for deviance. Warnings for spanking/cp/corporal punishment of a child.
1. Skipping School

**How to Be a Vampire: Mall Mayhem **

** Author's Note: As I've been writing these Dimitri / Embry stories, I've grown very attached to the genre and in my head it has gone beyond the simple Disney movie. I hope you can see that by the writing, but I also think it's now apparent that I've taken Dimitri out of character. This was spurred along by, I feel obligated to mention, the fact that I haven't thought of Dimitri as the movie character for a long time. When I write a story, I assign real-life actors to play the characters in my head and then from that point every description, every line of dialogue, is about them and my Dimitri has long since been played by Michael Fassbender. Still, I've attempted to keep the dialogue ambiguous enough that die-hard Mom's-Got-a-Date fans [if there are any, I'm sure chances are slim] can still picture Charles Shaughnessy in the role if you really want. Or anybody else. I have pages and pages of unpublished one-shots and ideas I haven't produced for you yet, but I hope to have more out soon. I thank all of you who have followed these stories and hope you continue to enjoy them. **

**Chapter 1: Skipping School**

"Come on, Rudy."

"Put a cork in it, Embry. If you're too chicken, go wait outside and keep watch."

"I'm not chicken, Rudyard, I'm just saying..." I faltered. "We've got a math test today."

"So?" Rudy grinned mischievously and pocketed a red digital watch. I groaned and turned away, pushing my hands into the pockets of my school-issue sweater and waiting for Rudy and the twins to be finished shopping with the five-finger discount.

"Oi, what d'you think you're doing there!"

Unanimously, my cohorts and I spun on our heels, faced with one angry-looking security guard, and everything took an abrupt turn for the worst. "Run!" Rudy shouted, before I could iterate the horribleness of that idea. _Running_ was about the worst thing we could do in that context, if you asked me, but nobody asked me and I didn't have much time to think about it. Stampedes, you know, are caused by only one bull flipping a shit and running. People are the same way.

Startled, I turned to follow them, crashing into a display of colorful keychains, which fell to the floor with an almighty crash, tripping up the security guard. I ran, leaping over the mess and breaking for the open mall. Sure enough, my hesitation had cost me. There was no sign of Rudy, Louie, or Violet.

"Hold it right there!" The guard shouted from behind me.

No way. This was not getting pegged on me. I hadn't even stolen anything! I ran, shoving my way between mall-goers and emerging clean on the other side of the crowd in an atrium near the food court. Truthfully, I had little notion of where to go - I had never been in this mall before but they all followed the same basic floorplan. I'd stolen from a handful in my past and made sure to note entries and exits beforehand. Now it was just habit. I knew much better than to steal. Dimitri had "persuaded" me out of it long ago. Of course, if he saw this fiasco unfolding, I doubt he'd be any happier.

On the other side of the atrium, more security guards appeared. I cursed, glancing over my shoulder. They were surrounding me on all sides.

I broke for the escalators, grabbing the sliding banister and skidding down it, tumbling to a heap one floor below. I made to stand, but my right arm throbbed painfully at the elbow, making me cringe. Groaning, I rolled to my stomach. Groaning again, I followed the perfectly shined black shoes up navy pant legs to the unhappy face of a security guard. Another grabbed me by the arms and hauled me up from behind.


	2. Booked

**Chapter 2: Booked**

I wasn't one to discard my dignity by making a scene in the middle of a public mall, but once the officers had escorted me to an offstage area, I began to protest in earnest.

"I haven't done anything!" I squirmed as the guard who held me dragged me down a narrow hallway. I presumed this was the infamous 'mall jail' I had always had the lucky pleasure of never visiting. Most of the guards had dispersed, returning to their duties, but two followed my captor.

We proceeded to the end of the hall. The guard reached for a key on his belt and unlocked the cell door, placing a hand on the small of my back and pushing me inside. It was a bare room with stone walls painted a retro shade of key lime. A single bench ran from one side to the other and the concrete floor offered little comfort from the chilly draft. Now behind bars, I became, you could say, somewhat more cognizant of the finality of my capture, wished heartily that I had never left the school playground, and made a silent promise to Rudy that I was going to sock him in the jaw next I saw him. I wasn't a rat, but he had that coming.

"Sit down," he ordered.

"I didn't do anything," I repeated.

"You and your friends were caught shoplifting," he enumerated. "Sit _down_."

"No, _I _was caught, and it was them, not me! Check my pockets!"

"You could have thrown it out."

"There was nothing to throw out!" I shouted back, growing angry. "Because I didn't take anything!"

"Quiet!" he boomed. "Now you can sit down like I told you or I can come in there and handcuff you to the bench. What'll it be?"

Mall Cop: 1, Embry: 0. He didn't put me in handcuffs, but he did leave, pulling the door shut behind him. It gave a metallic click. Sighing, I plopped onto the bench, playing with a stray cluster of fibers on my gray sweater. Some time passed, but there were no clocks in sight and I was beginning to sweat. I considered taking off my sweater, but the anxiety gripping my insides grasped at the quietude and kept me frozen.

The guard returned. "What's your name?"

I looked up. "I want a lawyer."

He chuckled a bit at that. "You're from St. Jude's."

That got my attention. Damn, I hadn't even considered that he may recognize my uniform. Normally, it wasn't that big a deal – there wasn't anything particularly memorable about the plain gray slacks and white shirts, but it had been cold and I wore my navy jumper, which bore the academy crest on the right sleeve. He must have seen it when he hoisted me off the ground.

"So?" I ventured.

"So how about I call over and get them to send me a list of which students they're missing."

"If you could do that you would have already."

"True. In fact, they were nice enough to send over all your information. Embry Denatos, eleven years old, phone number, address." He scanned the sheet. "We're checking the cameras to match the faces of your friends."

_Friends. Yeah, right. _I swallowed, suddenly unable to process. Phone number. They would call Dimitri. He would wake from morning hibernation disgruntled and angry, forced to come free me from this ratty excuse for a prison.

"I'm about to call him now."

I rose, approaching the bars. "I haven't done anything." It was almost a plea. "Search me, check the cameras – I was in that store but I didn't touch anything, I swear."

"You caused serious damage to a display."

"I'll pay for it-"

"Why did you run?"

"Because I'm supposed to be in school!" Wasn't that _obvious_? "I haven't done anything, you can't keep me here, don't call him! Please, please don't call him. I was just there with my friends. I didn't know they came here to steal but _I _didn't steal. Just check the camera."

He scrutinized me a moment before disappearing once more down the hallway.

Tense, I paced back and forth. After a bit longer, he returned, pushing the little key into the lock. The door swung inward and I swelled with the prospect of freedom. They must have watched the tapes, seen that I was innocent and were now letting me go. So far, it has been the most short-lived happiness I have ever experienced. Perhaps I had been lucky for too long. Life has a way of slowing down and speeding up and now it was paying me back for all the times I _didn't_ get caught by the mall police, back when casing a jewelry store was pretty high on the list of my deviant repertoire.

Dimitri stepped into the room, and said the one worst thing he could possibly say in the context of my situation.

"Can you give us a minute?"

I swallowed.


	3. Short and Not So Sweet

**Chapter 3: Short and Not So Sweet**

Although Dimitri's angry presence always made me feel about six inches tall, he was particularly imposing in the tiny cell. Behind him the guard shuffled off, leaving the gate open, thank the powers the be. I may as well have been locked in a cage with an enraged bear.

"Did they tell you?" I ventured, hoping that if I got the first word in the conversation I could convince him of my innocence. "I didn't do anything."

He nodded, his nonchalance unnerving. "They did. Unfortunately, they couldn't explain why you're here and not at school, or why you resisted their authority and proceeded to run your mouth instead of _answering their questions_." By the end of this, his voice was far above normal volume and he was advancing steadily. I backed into a corner and slid onto the bench.

"I didn't steal," I muttered for the umpteenth time. Half an hour ago those three words were going to save me. Now they seemed hollow and shameful in light of everything else. I saw my wrongs piling up like a massive highway wreck and suddenly being bored to death and alone in a drafty cell was much more appealing than trying to defend myself.

"You wouldn't have to keep defending yourself if you were where you're supposed to be right now," he growled sternly. I swallowed, realizing he was employing some of those vampire instincts and cleared my head. All my boldness had deflated; Dimitri's presence alone was enough to set some people on edge. Combined with his anger it made me want to crawl into a hole and stay there forever, if only to escape his temper.

"We're going home," he commanded, pivoting.

"You're not listening!" I rose. "I didn't steal, they had no right to lock me up in here." _Shit, where did that come from?_

His patience was expended. Before I could retreat [not that there was really anywhere _to_ retreat] he spun around and grabbed me by the arm, turning me sideways and planting three firm swats on the seat of my trousers. I squeezed my eyes shut against the sting, but it brought tears to my eyes. Down the hall, I heard the guard swivel in his chair.

"You've made your point," he whispered dangerously. "I haven't even begun to make mine. Open your mouth one more time, and I'll make it right here."

I looked up fearfully.

"Let's go."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The drive home couldn't be short enough, it seemed. I squirmed in my seat. Those swats had hurt, and only served as reminders for my impending doom. I had been living with Dimitri for a while and I hadn't been in this much trouble yet. He'd only smacked me a handful of times, but this felt worse than all those times combined. Yet, I had this overwhelming sense of injustice. First, when we'd walked out of the security office, the guard had noticed my tears and though he didn't smile at it, it is humiliating. Then, at more thoughts of Rudy and the twins, who I would never snitch on, getting caught [if the did manage to identify them on camera] and probably having their rich parents smack them on the wrist and scold them with bowls of ice cream. [Bcak then, that was my idea of a rich person's life.] And finally, at my mistaken notion that one right on my part would not be enough to convince Dimitri I didn't deserve to be punished. Still, he did seem rather angry for just skipping school.

The Porsche ground to a halt in the gravel driveway. Dimitri got out first, opened my door, and pulled me out by the collar, sending me toward the house with one order: "wait for me upstairs." I fled.


	4. Facing the Music

**Chapter 4: Music**

The punishment was absent prelude. He came up, and I was almost grateful for the order to bend over the bed so I wouldn't have to look at the switch dangling from his right hand. My gut churned horribly - I had expected a spanking, not a whipping. Why was he so angry?

"Bend over," he repeated.

Full of dread, I did so, leaning over the side of my bed and placing my hands on the soft quilt, bracing myself as he placed one hand on the small of my back, immobilizing me, and raised the switch. He gave me a dozen quick licks. The whole thing probably lasted about a minute, but I struggled to maintain control of myself and tears began to spill. He relented, and drew his hand away from my spine.

"Turn around," he ordered, more gently than before.

I struggled awkwardly to my feet, one hand hiding my shameful tears and the other gingerly cupping my aching backside.

"Pitiful." Dimitri sighed, studying me for a moment before striding across the room to the ceramic washbasin, withdrawing the pitcher of clean water and pouring it into the bowl. "Really, Embry, you're not leaving me with a whole lot of options here."

Perhaps I didn't understand all those words in that order in this context, but the coldly diminished tone of his voice reverberated inside me.

"Enough of that," he approached me, wiping at my face with a wet rag. "Mind telling me what was going through that head of yours today?" It was more of an order than a suggestion.

There it was, the small window of redemption grinding open against rusty hinges. There are two parts to Dimitri's wrath, after all: the punishment it manifests, and his forgiveness.

"I just didn't want to go to school," I choked out, pulling away from the rag.

"For Christ's sake, Embry!" he shouted suddenly, frighteningly. I looked up, startled, my eyes beginning to tear up again. I backed away. He stepped off, then, perhaps realizing scaring me into shock was not his intent.

"I'm sorry," I pleaded. It was the only thing I could think to say, and began to cry anew. I was lost, confused, didn't know why he was so angry with me. I wasn't the model of good behavior, but it wasn't as though I were constantly out of control, either. So far I had lied, disobeyed, stolen, and built up quite a repertoire of things Dimitri considered transgressions. Consequently, I'd ended up with more sore backsides than I could count, and a couple of switchings for serious things like putting myself in danger, and it wasn't the switching that confused me. It was his continuous anger after it was over. With just that to think about plus a burning reminder of what I'd done to get myself here, I cried. A lot.

He wasn't one to buy into histrionics, but my subdued bawling seemed magically to soften his demeanor a bit. He approached me and led me over to the washbasin. "Stand up here, come on," he encouraged quietly as I stepped onto the stool. He placed a hand on the back of my neck and bent me over the cool water. Salty tears dripped into my reflection. He resoaked the rag and laid it folded over my neck as I continued to cry. "Calm down, Embry. Calm down."

"When did you leave?"

"At recess," I sniffed. "I'm sorry, Dimitri."

"Quit apologizing." He took the rag and pressed it gently against my face, pulling me up to stand. "Calm?"

I swallowed back the last of my tears and nodded.

"Sit down."

I obeyed, gently lowering myself onto the foot of the bed. Dimitri deposited the rag on the basin. "The officer at the mall says you may have hurt your arm when fleeing him."

I remembered it suddenly, for the first time since it happened. It twinged a bit now, but my adrenaline at the mall and distraction by all the subsequent events up until this moment had made me forget it. "I fell on it. It doesn't really hurt."

Dimitri's knowing gaze pierced me. His hand whipped out and grasped me about the afflicted arm. I gasped subduedly. "Okay, it hurts," I admitted dolefully.

"Embry," he chided dangerously. "Your habit of deception is really beginning to grate on my patience."

"Sorry, Dimitri."

"What did I say about _apologizing_?" His voice increased in volume.

"Not to," I returned quickly, a bit frightened. "But-"

He raised an eyebrow.

"But why are you so mad?"

He advanced toward the bed. "You don't think skipping school, being accused of petty theft and getting sent to jail _all in one morning_ constitutes a little anger on my part?"

"_Mall_ jail," I muttered, unwisely.

Dimitri exhaled deeply, bending his knees and squatting down at the edge of the bed before me. "Look at me, Embry."

I did. He placed his hands on my shoulders. "I'm going to explain something to do, and if you please, do your best to let it soak into that thick skull of yours."

"Yes, Dimitri."

"You've been here a few months now. When you came here, you didn't have anything. No identification, no address, no nothing but I wanted you here so I got in touch with the right people."

"People?" I whispered. _People_. I had always thought of me and Dimitri as being, well... just me and Dimitri. I never knew anything about other people being involved.

"I can't just take children off the side of the street and offer them homes, Embry. There are hurdles to overcome, and in your case, loopholes to clear."

"I don't... are you sending me away?" My eyes sparkled with moisture.

"Didn't you hear me, Embry, I said I wanted you here. _I _wanted you here. Don't you want to be here?"

"Yeah, of course," I returned quietly.

"Then listen to me because this is important. Your actions and mine are under the scrutiny of these people I have mentioned, and if at any point in time they develop even the slightest inkling that I am not a good enough guardian for a rambunctious, demanding, too smart-for-her-own good youngster, they _will_ have you sent away."

"But you are a good guardian," I protested. "You feed me and give me things I need and let me live here and make me do chores. Just because I'm a big screw-up doesn't mean you are. How can they think that? Who are they to say that? I've never met any of them. They don't even know me! They didn't care about me when I was living in a dumpster, why would they care about me now?"

"Embry," he cut me off. I met his gaze. "What's important to remember is that doing things like you did today does not look good to them. I haven't told you about this before today because I never wanted you to think I would use this knowledge to punish you. I will always do my best to keep you happy, healthy, and here, where you belong. But you have to work with me. Do you understand?"

"I understand. But there's more I want to know."

Dimitri lifted me beneath the arms, taking a seat on the side of my bed and laying me over his lap. I seized up a bit, but only instinctively.

"Relax," he soothed, placing a hand on my back and pushing a stack of pillows beneath my head. The hand on my back began to move in slow, even circles, up and down, followed by an intermittent, firm patting. Despite my confusion about everything happening in my life, I gradually I began to recede into the comfort of Dimitri's rare embrace.

"Dimitri," I muttered into the pillow.

"Yes, brat," he answered lightly.

"Why _did _you let me stay here?"

He inhaled. "Why do you think?"

"I dunno," I played along. "Some would argue I made the mistake of not breaking into that nicer villa just down the road-"

Dimitri smacked me [not terribly hard, but hard enough] on my exposed backside. "You ungrateful little urchin," he chuckled, as I groaned and rolled to my side to save myself further chastisement.

"Not fair," I clutched at my rear.

"Don't insult my house," he pointed a barely menacing finger at me. "Especially not by comparing it to that shack."

I grinned, rolling off his lap and sitting up, scrubbing at my tired face. "So why did you?" I asked, mellow and serious.

He leaned forward comfortably, entwining his hands in his lap. "Suppose I wanted to keep you around," he looked at me with a kind of boyish twinkle in his eye, "if I'm ever in need of a midnight snack."

I smiled, and the smile turned into a laugh, and Dimitri laughed, too. It was fleeting, that moment, and at the end we exchanged only a single look of mutual understanding that would be the first of many to come. Maybe I didn't have all the answers, but I had Dimitri.

I reached out and hugged him. He returned the embrace.


End file.
